


Memories

by spikeyycacti



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc if you squint, Gen, M/M, Murdoc centric, Over all phases, but not rlly, just a few interactions between the two, mostly angst, no seriously nothing graphic I promise it’s just mentioned, or at least I tried to do all phases, references to sex drinking smoking and masturbation nothing graphic, russ noodle and cyborg are only in passing, this is shorter than expected but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikeyycacti/pseuds/spikeyycacti
Summary: Just a few moments between Murdoc and 2D over the years.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Memories

Waking up in a heap of bodies wasn’t unusual. Waking up to my bloody singer rambling his head off, definitely was. 

Without opening my eyes I mindlessly respond with “Breathe will ya? You’re going to suffocate babbling like that.” 

“-re go’nna be late, Russ called me, s-says the bus is gone leave ina hour” 

I open my eyes and immediately shut them again, hangover. Before I can respond the bastards gone off again. 

“We gotta go, w-w-what if we miss the bus, w-what are we go’nna do?” 

“ Don’t get yer panties in a twist princess, they can’t leave without the main attraction, oh and the voice of course” 

I only got a look in response, and before he could open his gob again I got up, unsurprisingly bothering the bodies around me. I don’t care, I have no reason too, I’ve got places to be, more parties to crash. 

As I haphazardly search for my clothes on the floor 2D stands in a corner fidgeting like some year 10 at his first party. By the time I’ve effectively thrown my clothes back on he hands me my boots; he must have found them on his way in. I give him nothing but an uninterested stare in return and slip them on. 

He walks behind me down the stairs, quiet. A stark contrast from just a few minutes ago. He’s probably trying to remember every detail of the bird he managed to catch last night. He does it every time, I can’t comprehend why. It’s as if he values every woman he comes in contact with. Sounds frivolous and a waste of time if you ask me. 

Sex is anything but meaningful, especially in this crowd. The amount of mind altering substances taken at these parties leaves nothing but vague memories and hangovers. 

Sex is simply another way to gain control even if I don’t remember it. 

I manage to get a cab and awkwardly shove into the cramped back seat. I pat down my pockets looking for something, anything really. I come across a crumpled cigarette, no light though. Luckily dents passes me one. I reply with a grunt and light the fag. The driver glares at me through the rear view and I make sure to blow the smoke into the speaking slot.

This causes the cabbie to slam the slot closed. A sly grin graces my face. I glance to the side; 2D’s still lost in dreamland. 

“What’s her name?” 

2D blushes and I look out of the window to avoid it. He fumbles before responding with “,,w-what?”

A few minutes pass, minutes filled with silent tension, I refuse to think about why. I put out the cigarette on the door and throw my arm onto the back of the seat. 

“The bird faceache” I grumble. 

He scratches the back of his neck bashfully “I,, can’t remember, Marie? No. Mary? No not that either- she was so beautiful though, skin so soft- and her hair smelled like flowers-“ 

“Don’t need the dictionary definition dents. It doesn’t matter in the long run there’s hundreds more girls to shag.” 

2D doesn’t respond immediately instead staring off into nowhere again, looking for a response I suppose. 

He never gets to respond though. By the time he’s thought of a proper response we were already at the steps of the hotel. 

——————

I’m on the balcony of kong drinking to keep sane; thinking to keep sober. 

“Why are you here.” 

There’s no point in looking behind me, I knew who it was. I take another swig. Why am I here? I don’t know myself honestly. 

“Just to spite you Stuart” 

I feel a hardened glare aimed towards me but I won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at it. 

We fought, we always fight. I normally leave, go to some pub and shag the hell out of the first bird who lets me, then I come back and the cycle continues. 

Today the cycle broke. 

“You’re lying” 

“Why does it matter to you?” I look up at the sky trying to remember the names of constellations, anything to get my mind off this conversation. 

“You never stay Murdoc, what’s so different today? Or are you finally too lazy to even run away from your problems.” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I rub my temples. I don’t want to have this conversation right now, I don’t want to have this conversation ever. 

A pause, he walks up to railing and stands next to me. I won’t look at him, I can’t 

“You ever think that maybe I just wasn’t in the mood.” It’s fleeting and stupid and I know it won’t work but I try anyway. 

“Give me the truth.” 

“And if I don’t.” 

2D doesn’t have a response. Good riddance. I don’t have to deal with this. I take one glance to the side and make eye contact with the man, then walk away. 

I know he’s watching me leave- I don’t care. He has no right to my inner workings. 

——————

Cyborg’s in the back dead-useless. We haven’t stopped in days. We can’t stop, it’s not safe. 

But we’re running low on supplies and cyborg needs a charge. We’re no safer with her dead than at a motel. 

We just need long enough for her to charge.

I look to my left, 2Ds rubbing his hands together-repeatedly-fidgeting I tell myself. I know it’s some comfort thing, I know it’s my fault he even has to do that. 

I bring my attention to the glove box trying to find my flask, I’m not nearly as drunk enough. I slam it closed in frustration empty handed. 

“The floor”

“What?- I can't understand you when you mumble” 

He wrings his hands like wet rags and takes a few deep breaths. He won’t make eye contact with me. It almost fills me with guilt, but I won’t let it- I can’t let it. 

“The flask, it-t fell on th’e f-floor wh’en we passed that cop.” He puts his hands on the back of his neck and looks out the passenger window. 

Instead of thanking him, because I can’t, I reach down and search for it one handed. The road is empty, mostly anyway. 

I take a swig and look at the road to avoid looking at him. There’s so much I want to say so many apologies but I can’t. There’s so many things, I can’t even begin. 

Will I ever be forgiven,,

——————

I walk into my room fully expecting to wank myself to sleep. What I didn’t expect was him fiddling with my piano. 

I don’t think he notices me in the doorway, I bask in the freedom for a moment. 

His spindly fingers grace the keys with the lightest touch, as to not make sound. His hair still as spikey as the day we met. His impossibly long legs uncomfortably shoved under the piano. 

He must’ve felt my presence as he makes direct eye contact with me. Neither one of us dare to speak; one wrong word and the bomb explodes. 

We haven’t quite spoken in months, always dancing around each other and speaking through Noodle or Russel. 

Nothings been the same since plastic beach; we all changed. 

He’s the first to break eye contact; looks back to the piano keys. He’s biting his lip, no doubt peeling the skin off. I chastise myself for observing him so closely. 

Suddenly he’s fleeing the scene but something in me won’t let him. 

I don’t want him to go. Not yet. It’s been so long I just want to hear him speak, I don’t care what he’s saying. I crave a reaction from him. 

I don’t think about it. 

“You don’t have to leave” I mask it in nonchalance. 

He’s only a few feet away, so real, so human. 

I don’t know how many minutes pass, we just stand there in silence. Neither one of us want to say the wrong thing. 

“Murdoc-“ He starts and then stops. He’s doing that hand thing he picked up. I revert my eyes to the floor every time he does that it reminds me it's all my fault. 

I walk to the piano bench and sit. I don’t expect him to follow me but after a few moments he joins me. 

Sitting as far away from me on the bench as possible I notice, I pretend I don’t notice. 

I pretend it doesn’t hurt, I know I deserve it. I deserve worse than this, I’ll take anything at this point. 

I’m so desperate this is pathetic. 

“I just thought of’a melody and wanted to ‘ear it before I forgot.” He bashfully admits. His hands are squeezed together in his lap; his knuckles white. 

He brings a hand to rest on the keys; contemplating his next move I’m sure. 

He ends up taking his hand off before playing anything. 

Suddenly he’s walking away again, I let him this time. There’s nothing more to say. 

——————

“You’re back.” He won’t even look at me. 

“You replaced me.” 

“I did.” 

I want to ask him why, why the album couldn’t wait. 

Why didn’t he call. 

He walks away and I find myself watching him leave. 

There’s no point in following him, that would show I care-which I don’t. 2D can do whatever he wants-rebel if that’s what this is. 

But he can’t forget I made him. If it wasn’t for me he would still be working in that bloody keyboard shop. 

If it wasn’t for me he would still be Stuart Pots, an unknown middle aged man with kids and wife and a white picket fence. 

A no named man with a no named life. I’ve done everything for him. I made him a star and this is what I get in return. 

A shitty replacement and the silent treatment. 

Fine if this is the game he wants to play, let it be.

——————

I rest a hand on my cheekbone; a bruise will surely blossom there. 

I’m mourning the fact my serum didn’t work and thus ignoring the lecture Russel is spewing. 

I glance over to 2D who’s talking to Noodle. It’s no surprise really he’s always been her favorite. 

He’s everyone’s favorite. 

I feel like I’m falling in again

I look away; these lyrics have been plaguing my mind for weeks. The serum was a last stitch effort for answers. 

Of course I could’ve asked but he never would’ve told me anyway. 

Russel must notice I’m not listening because he decides to give up. He walks away a judgmental glare left in his place. He stands next to Noodle; the perfect family. 

I catch eyes with 2D and try to get an answer, literally anything. I can’t read him, not in this environment at least. 

He wipes the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and I gulp. I look at the ground; I need to collect myself. 

I stand in one swift movement, a bad idea on my part, I’m not as limber as I once was. I turn away from them and pull a cigarette out from my jacket pocket. I light it and look to the sky thinking over everything. 

He changed so much while I was gone, I’m losing my grip. I’m surprised they even took me back.

I decide to put that thought into my list of things to not think about. 

Suddenly there’s someone next to me, I fully expect it to be Noodle. 

“Here to lecture me too?” I speak without looking to my right. 

“Murdoc.” 

I whip my head to the side and I’m met with white eyes and blue hair. 

“I thought you’d fin’ally moved past these stunts.” He turns to look at me but I refuse to look back, I won’t succumb to him. Not now at least. 

I glare at the sky in response. I take a few puffs from my fag to avoid answering him. Since when did I have to answer to him anyway? 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about my “stunts” dents.” I lace my voice with arrogance in hopes of throwing him off my case. 

“I’m serious Murdoc.W-What even was’ that serum for?” He’s trying to get me to look at him but I can’t. I can’t do that to myself. 

I again use my cigarette as an excuse to delay an answer. I know he knows what I’m doing but he’s grown too stubborn over the years. 

“Truth serum nothing deadly, it didn’t even work remember.” 

He ponders my answer for a few moments. I suppose he decides I was telling the truth. There’s no use in lying right now, not about that at least. 

I finally look at him.

Bad idea. 

After I’ve acknowledged him he decides he’s gotten what he wants. 

He walks away, back to the others. I watch him retreat. So many thoughts run through my head and I don’t know where to start. 

I conclude that I should finish this cigarette first, so that’s exactly what I do.


End file.
